Waiting In Darkness
by EternalEccentric
Summary: When John and Dean left Sam alone to go after a Poltergeist two towns over they didn't think that anything could go wrong. However when something does happen its enough to change Sam, and the entire Winchester Clan, forever.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey ya'll :)  
I really should be working on my Math work right now but this story got in my head and it won't go away so I just started typing and (after a few revisions) this came out. I've got a second chapter already about half typed but to be honest I'm scared shitless to upload it 'cause it will honestly be the darkest, most disturbing (to me at least) thing I have ever written and I am terrified of how people here will take it.  
I will however, against my concience if need be, upload CH. 2 as soon as possible. To be warned I may rate it under M, just not sure how graphic I want to get right now.**

Nervous rambling over for now, so go forth and read-ith !!

**DISCLAIMER: *insert Elder-Swear here*  
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They thought it would be safe. A quick hunt, just fifty miles away and Sammy had just turned fourteen. Surely it would be safe to leave him alone for two days, three tops so they could take care of this spirit and move on.

Dean hasn't forgiven himself or John for assuming that since they got back.

.

_He has been watching the Winchesters since they arrived in town, more particularly he's been watching the youngest. The voices in his head warn him of what the boy actually is, they tell him to take the boy, quickly before his powers can grow. So he prepares, he watches them from afar, learning everything he can. The Father is John and John comes home most nights between ten and twelve, smelling like liquor and broken dreams. The Older brother is Dean and he has a part time job down at the town garage if he's not working with John. His main focus is protecting his younger brother. The youngest, his target, is Sam. Sam is young, yet strong and just a shade under 6 feet tall. He leaves for school every morning between 6:30 and 6:45, walks the three miles in 20 minutes, tops and leaves at 2:50 everyday but Thursdays when he stays after for study group, always getting picked up by his brother. _

_._

It was a simple poltergeist and seeing his baby brother curled impossibly small in the hospital bad he can't remember why Sammy stayed behind.

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_He's following Sam again one day after school when Dean doesn't show up. The change of pattern throws him off for a moment before he realizes this is his chance.. Speeding ahead he pulls into an alleyway close to where Sam's house is. The kid seems lost in his own world, humming a tune He doesn't recognize as he passes His hiding place. Quick as a flash He reaches out and yanks the kid back into the alley, clapping the chloroform soaked cloth over the boys face before he can give much more than a startled half-yelp. He watches as the fire grows then dims in Sam's eyes as the drugs begin to work their way through his system. _

_._

Dean sits like a guard-dog beside Sam's bed. Dad hasn't come by since Dean blew-up at him and the doctors are too wise-or perhaps too scared- to suggest that Sam may never fully be himself again.

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_He binds the boy carefully, tightly, marveling again at how pliable a human body is when the person is unconscious. No matter how many times he does this it never fails to interest him. Maybe once he could've been a Doctor or better but those dreams were wiped away the day the voices began, so he became a Sheriff instead. _

_Humming softly, the same tune Sam was earlier, he shuts the back door of his marked SUV and drives away. _

_._

Dean sits like a guard-dog beside Sam's bed. He sees the still-livid bruises on Sam's arms and legs. He sees the way Sam watches everything now, with haunted, suspicious eyes and hurts for his brother. He longs for the Sammy before they left, the one that gave Dad a quick hug and told Dean he'd have a surprise for him when they got back.

And sometimes he sits in the bathroom, while Sam's tossing and turning in a half-sedated sleep, and he cries. He cries for the innocent, happy brother he lost. He cries for how broken the Sam he has now is.

He cries because Sammy pulled the trigger and all Dean wants sometimes is to turn back time and shoot that sick-fucker in the head himself, before he ever had the chance to look at, or to even think about Sam.

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**AN 2.0:  
Just as a warning, I will be changing my screen name again within the next few hours. My damn parents found it out so I gotta change it so they can't find any of this. They'll think I'm even more crazy than they already do.**

**REVIEW !!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: HUGE thank-yous and Sammy!Hugs to everyone who reviewed, Faved, and added this story to their alerts!! Ya'll rock the fricken world :D:D:D:D**

This chapters a bit of a lead-up to what happened to Sammy during his...incident with the sheriff. More of a T rating on this chapter, nothing blatently... ya' know, thats coming up though, just so you're forewarned.

SIDE NOTE: The He's in the Italicized part of the chapter are the Sheriff, just to prevent confusion

**DISCLAIMER: :..(..**

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A few days after Dean and John their big blow-up in the hospital corridor the Doctor tells them they can take Sammy home. John sees a fraction of the tension melt out of eldest's shoulders as he turns away. The Doctor beside him waits for Dean to reenter Sam's room before he turns to John and tells him _both _of his sons will probably need therapy after this shitfest.

John just barely stops from laughing in the poor Doctor's face. If he knew the entire story they'd all be in the funny-farm right now.

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_Sam wakes slowly with the sharpsweet smell of chloroform still clogging his smell and dragging at his thoughts. Two things are perfectly obvious though.  
1: He's chained, which is never a good sign, although the fact that he knows that is pretty screwed-up in its own right. If his fucking eyes would cooperate he could open his eyes and prove that.  
2: It really freaking cold wherever he is. If he weren't more preoccupied with the whole "Chained to a wall in an unknown place" issue he'd be worried about getting sick. _

_The view when his eyes open is almost enough to make him wish he was unconscious again_.

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Sammy's more than a little skittish when they leave the hospital, studying everything with a sort-of detached suspicion. Dean shadows his brother like the personal guard-dog John had heard the nurses calling him, and for the first time watching his sons outside the hospital he actually sees why the doctor had suggested therapy.

This last month…its changed something between them, and while John's not fully sure that he knows what it is, he does know that now if he loses one, he loses both.

_._

_There's a kid, or what used to be a kid, younger than him chained the other wall, staring at him with empty eyes. For a second Sam wonders if he's tied up in a basement with a dead person, and that thought alone just might drive him insane, but the kid draws a shaky breath and blinks sluggishly at him. _

_Sam opens his mouth, about to ask the kid for their name, cause he feels kind of like an ass for thinking of them as "this poor damn kid", when a door somewhere overhead and behind him slams open. The loud shuffle-stomp of work boots precedes their visitor and judging by the terrified glaze the other kids eyes have gained Sam can guess this isn't gonna be pretty, whatever it is. _

_._

They get to the car and John can swear he sees an almost-smile flit across Sammy's face, a tiny bit of the tired fear fading away. He still glances at Dean though, as if for permission before climbing in. It's something John's only just caught on to him doing but the way Dean acts about it he guesses it's been happening since they got Sam back. Dean takes the drivers seat without a comment and John climbs into the front passenger, a small smile stretching his own face as Moterhead's "Ace Of Spades" starts with the car.

Yeah maybe their lives are fucked-up right now but music's always been Dean's way of expressing himself, well that and women, and if he's willing to let the classic rock play things are gonna be okay.

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_Sam braces himself as the footsteps come closer, prepared for some hideous creature, only to see the local sheriff limp around the corner. For a second irrational hope wells up that this guy's gonna save them, but the dark pit growing in his stomach, as well as the wicked looking blade in the sheriff's hand practically scream otherwise. _

_The sheriff ignores Sam for the moment, striding for the other kid, who draws back whimpering pitifully. The sheriff loosens the kid's bonds and drags him out of Sam's line of sight, thumping back up the stairs. _

_A few minutes later the screaming starts and Sam fights his own chains, desperate to help the kid but terrified to know what the Hell's making him scream like that. Three hours after Sam's scraped his writs raw against the rough metal they come thumping back down, the kids eyes half-lidded and dull, while the sheriff's seem to glow with a maniacal energy. He chains the kid back up, though Sam can't see the point since whatever spark he had a few hours ago has obviously died, and turns towards Sam, producing a syringe from somewhere in his dirty pants . _

_A strident "Hell No" flashes across Sam's thoughts as He tries to stab the needle into one of Sam's arms. He misses four times and gets two rather solid kicks in the stomach before he just flat out sits on Sam and actually gets the needle in. _

_Whatever was in there sure a hell is fast working cause the room fading around him even as the Sheriff clambers back to his feet. The last thing Sam sees before darkness stakes over completely is a rather unflattering shot of the Sheriff's yellowing teeth. _

.

_The voices like this one, he's a fighter and they haven't had a fighter in so long. He clambers up, silently cursing the throbbing pain in his gut, and feels his face smile as he stares down at Sam, who blinks slowly up at him, a confused, disgusted look on his face. _

_A sound from behind him draws his attention and he turns to find Ross staring at him, bare horror blindingly evident as he looks between them, mouth working for a moment before words emerge. _

"_Why Dad?" _

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**AN 2.0: So how badly do you hate the sheriff so far ? Leave a review and let me know how badly you want his ass kicked before he dies C:**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: _Third chapter and it feels so good...  
_  
Sorry, little insane and overcaffinated right now :P, Anyways, this chapter does'nt have much in the way of past, it's more backstory on Ross and kind of setting up for his death (because yes, I am going to kill the poor kid, he just doesn't fit into the later chapters) and exploring how the Winchesters, as a family unit are handling the issue.**

I'm going to go catch a few hours shut-eye now that it's been about 18 hours since I last slept, ya'll read, enjoy (?), review, and in about six hours I'll start work on chapter four (which will hopefully take less time to update than this one did)  
Cheers ya'll, and Happy Thursday,  
Jess :) 

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They're three days and roughly 40 miles outside the state lines the first time John actually considers that the doctor may have had a valid point. They, as a family, have suffered through some fairly dark moments but there was always the knowledge that they could all relate to each other. With this though…it hurts to admit it but he's completely lost, and Dean's obviously trying but John's got the sinking sense of failure that neither are going to be able to make Sam completely right again.

The thought draws a wry chuckle from him, even as he glances at the mirror to make sure he hasn't woken his fitfully sleeping sons. None of them have never been normal really, not for the past fourteen or so years at least.

.

_Waking is surprisingly easier this time. Maybe it's a mix of knowing where he is and that he's been drugged but it really doesn't make the reality he surfaces to any better. Sam still does it though, if only because he's learned that ignoring the problem and hoping it'll go away, is one of the most likely things to get you killed in the Winchester world._

_The Kid is still there, curled into a restless sleep in his corner, still mercifully breathing, though it's uneven and stuttering every other breath, and part of him, the tiny part that isn't freaking the hell out over this issue, is strangely glad for his presence. _

_He's younger than Sam, that much is obvious, no more than eleven based on his face and body structure and, if he were a betting man, Sam would guess he's been here at least three or four weeks if weight loss is anything to go by. _

_It takes him a minute to realize that the Kid's no longer sleeping and has reverted back to staring at him, a strange mix of fear/hope/terror/sorrow in his hazy eyes. Eyes that have seen too much, too early and that fact reaches down and twists something primal in Sam's stomach, something that's practically screaming at him to get the hell out of dodge before whatever broke this kid gets to him. _

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They manage to avoid talking about it for another week, putting four more states between them and the town with no real destination in mind. However the incident in the McDonalds just outside Bisbee, Arizona not only surprises the Hell out of John, it also shows him just how poorly they're handling this. In the guys defense he'd been wearing the Ronald McDonald getup, complete with giant floppy shoes which, in hindsight, had probably been why he tripped. He'd just reached out for the nearest thing to keep him from face planting and, unfortunately for all parties involved, that nearest thing had just happened to be Sam's shoulder.

Any other time and place it might have been funny to see Sam knock out some poor guy in a clown suit, especially regarding Sam's…issues with clowns, but John had seen the look in his son's eyes half a second before he swung and it wasn't "oh my shit, clown" it was pure _terror_ at contact with someone unfamiliar.

There was a beat of silence after the guy fell, Sam's eyes unfocused as he realized what had happened and practically sprinted from the restaurant, Dean taking the chance to scrub a tired hand over his face before giving chase and leaving John to deal with the confused and slightly accusing stares of the other staff and patrons.

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"_Who are you?"The question startles Sam out of the half-sleep-daze he'd fallen into while trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get them out of there, cause there was no way he was leaving the Kid to continue suffering if he could get out, even if it was only for five minutes longer than he already had. _

"_What?"_

The Kid manages half an eye roll, an unexpected shadow of a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth for an instant.

"Obviously you're not here by choice, just wanted to know your name was all," his voice had trailed down to a whisper by the time he finished his sentence, like he had lost whatever strength he had by asking the question and smiling, the familiar haunted glaze falling back over his eyes. 

"_Sam, I'm Sam," Sam offered quickly, scrambling to get the kid back so he could get some answers, "Who're you?"_

_The Kid doesn't answer for a long moment, and Sam's resigned himself back to the silent, almost comatose, Kid from before by the time he does speak._

"Ross, I am…was Ross."

"Was?" Sam can't help the inquisitive push in his voice, even as the kid-Ross apparently- shrinks further back, though he's expecting a blow.

"He doesn't like it when I call myself that."

"He who, the Sheriff, why not?" Sam knows he's pushing it, asking too many questions, too quickly, can see it in the way Ross curls further into himself but he can't help it, it's just part of him he guesses.

Ross nods tentatively and whispers something so low that it barely floats across the room. Sam's going to push him for more when the floorboards above them start to creak. 

_For an instant Sam sees fear, no more than fear, absolute terrified horror flood through Ross's eye, before it's replaced by the same blank glaze from before. The door opens again, slower this time like the Sheriff's expecting some form of attack, as he shuffles down the stairs, and towards Ross, who's pulled himself painfully tight against the wall, like he's trying to melt into it. _

_Sam can't stop himself from shrinking instinctively away from the man, mind remember the needle and his crushing weight, but the Sheriff acts like he's not even there, unchaining and dragging Ross away like a sack of grain, mouth moving silently like he's talking to invisible guests. _

_._

It takes longer than John expected to convince the other employees and patrons _not_ to call the police, and honestly by the time he manages to leave can even remember what he'd said but the stares he can feel burning into his back as he exits makes him think that someone's going to call them anyways if he doesn't clear out real makes it over to the Impala before he can see his sons at the edge of the ditch beside the highway and he's half mad-half relieved that their just sitting outside and doesn't really want to snap at Sam for reacting but after suffering through over an hour of the screeching from the lady that owns the restaurant he's more than a little stressed out himself.

Dean glances up, like he can feels John's stare on them, and just barely shakes his head, warning John to stay away, before glancing back down at Sam, and muttering something to low for the wind to carry back to him. He can see the words "Sammy" and 'calm down" though, and Sam nods just slightly, tremors slowing minutely as Dean stand slowly, pressing a comforting hand onto his shoulder before loping over to where John's standing.

"We've got a slight problem."


End file.
